


Pump it up!

by babydragon7



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, M/M, Post Reichenbach, slight spoilers for season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:11:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babydragon7/pseuds/babydragon7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock keeps on bringing John tea. Something has to give</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pump it up!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine, BBC and ACD owns the characters!
> 
> Not beta-ed, so please let me know if you see some nasty mistakes I could edit!
> 
> Slight spoilers for season 2

Sherlock broke into John’s life (and into John’s flat for that matter) right when John got to the stage of acceptance. It took him a year to get through all the steps of grief: denial “Sherlock, no, God”, anger, bargaining “don’t be dead”, and depression for quite a bit. And when he was finally able to smile, started to go out for a beer with Stamford and tried to enjoy spring. When he started to look at the bright side of life, it happened. 

He was looking outside the window of 221b, when all of sudden he was grabbed from behind, long fingers on his lips, long arm across his belly, and dragged to the corner. When the intruder whispered in his ear:

“Hush, John, it’s me.”

And John bit the fingers, which were covering his mouth, and Sherlock hissed. And John was this close to repeating his “I hit a boy and I liked it” experience, but suddenly Mycroft and some other men showed up and he had to delay beating Sherlock into a bloody pulp. 

It turned out Moran (Moriarty’s accomplice) and his merry men figured out Sherlock was not quite as dead as he claimed. As a result an undercover operation was planned, with both Sherlock and John seemingly leaving the flat in a black car, and in fact staying right there they were in 221b. They had to keep low profile for a week, they drew curtains and had to light lamps even during the day. Also John’s IP address was somehow relocated to Ireland and Sherlock was prohibited all the experiments that involved smoke or explosions. 

In all that mess the initial adrenaline John had wore thin. So Sherlock was spared some bruises (especially as he showed John some other bruises and cuts and abrasions and John went into doctor mood). It was hard to stay angry. He was not done with Sherlock, or forgave him completely, but now than they were back together in the flat, he thought it was somewhat miraculous.

And Sherlock looked so apologetic and soft and happy to see his blogger and wearing this adorable half-smile. John was outraged with the ordeal, but also so relived and happy, he could weep.

So for a week they were getting reacquainted. Sherlock was miserable without staff to do, so they talked, watched some TV and even played Cluedo again (it went as bad as last time). Both were waiting for news from Mycroft and to continue their old “solving crimes and blogging about it” life.

However their old-new living arrangement had both positive and negative developments.

The positive development was that now Sherlock was always bringing John tea. Or coffee. Or orange juice. It started on second day and continued for a whole week. Sherlock’s tea always tasted a bit off, but John was happy and amused and said “thank you” each time.

But there was also this thing, which was a bit “not good.” Almost from the very beginning John noticed, that he was, to put it simple, noticing Sherlock. Of course they were in close quarters, Mrs. Hudson bringing them food (she slapped Sherlock hard by the way, so John thought he was partially avenged). Of course he was his best friend (even if he was a bastard and died on John). But John had never felt this desperate before to hug him and hold him. He dreamed of even more and it scared him.

“I’m straight; I’ve been abstinent for a long time, all this awareness will pass.” Doctor said to himself. It did not pass. John absolutely refused to masturbate with Sherlock in mind. He was holding on to his “Friendship is much like platonic love, only sans sex” idea. It was not helping.

Sherlock also seemed more fidgety as a week went on. He grumbled and shouted and took John’s laptop (John had to get used to that all over again). This was old news. But he also stood too close to John all the time now, breathing down his neck. Or he wondered around the flat wearing just his bed sheet. He also gave John long and suggestive (did Sherlock even noticed they were suggestive?) looks.

Right now, Sherlock was standing on his knees on the coffee table, his arse high in the air and his upper body bend toward the sofa. He was searching for something behind the sofa cushions, muttering that John had hid his (John’s) phone, so he (Sherlock) could not send any texts.

John was always the patient one. But living without Sherlock for a year and suddenly having him back was harder that he expected. Speaking of hard, John woke up just this morning humping a pillow and now the sight of his flat-mate was not helping to relieve his tension. Sherlock looked like he was posed for spanking. John gritted his teeth. 

He channeled this (whatever it was) into anger.

“Be a brat, I need to go out” John found his jacket. “Mrs. Hudson forgot milk and I need some tea pronto.”

Sherlock turned his head and looked over his shoulder. 

“If you’re dead, don’t think of coming back.” 

“Fine,” John shouted (it felt good, shouting was good). He went upstairs to his room and sulked for a while. When he decided it was a good idea to make himself a proper cuppa (Sherlock always put sugar in his tea and John always drank regardless).

But as he approached the kitchen, he saw Sherlock was already busy making tea. Also he was busy putting some kind of fine powder in this tea.

“What is it, Sherlock?” It was reminding John of some previous occurrence, the one almost forgotten now. Sherlock – apologetic, sincere – brought him tea with sugar once. Only Sherlock thought it was drugged and would make John hallucinate a giant hound. All this time Sherlock brought him tea… 

“Are you trying to drug me again? What is it?”

Sherlock looked put out. 

“It’s nothing, John. Lepidium meyenii also known as maca root. Increases sex drive and stamina and is widely used in Peru and Ecuador. Nothing that could harm you.”

“Was it something you added to my tea last week?” Why was John even asking when he knew the answer. “Were you going to bring this cup to me?”

“Yes. And no. I actually was making some tea for myself.”

“You dosed yourself as well? Let me repeat: you’ve dosed both of us with potent aphrodisiac, which is meant to increase sexual desire and that drove me up the wall all week? Why?”

“I wanted to see how it affects more experienced male, compared to less… well, it’s not that we had so much to do, and waiting is boring, John. This component is completely natural, don’t worry. They’ve been using it for ages in Peru and I...”

“So you’ve decided that making me sexually frustrated was a good idea? Knowing I can’t get out of blasted flat? Were you trying to seduce me? I can’t believe it, Sherlock! You just keep on pulling this shit on me! Do you care about me at all?”

“I’ve died for you!”

“And it’s been a waste, because I will kill you all over again!”

John found he had approached his… ‘lab partner’ and did not even notice. Currently he was staring at the pulse point on the familiar neck visible in the opened collar of the familiar purple shirt. He looked up. Was it this maca thing or was it John? Pupil dilation, arrested breathing and did Sherlock just lick his lips? Oh, John could take this places. Upstairs, for example.

He was going to take this mad manipulative bastard apart and see how he liked it. John stopped for a second to catch his breath and then grabbed a cup and took a long gulp of the almost cold tea. An extra stamina would not go amiss right now.

 

“So. Any side-effects?”

“No, that I know off. Also from what I’ve read the effect seems to be accumulative. Want to have another go to double-check?”

“I think I do.”


End file.
